


Buried Memories

by fubbz



Category: Fire Emblem Echoes: Mou Hitori no Eiyuu Ou | Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia
Genre: Art and writing, F/M, Slow Burn, a beast deprived of its sustenance will only roam loose, a true intellectual wields two swords, i snapped like a twig, i'm going to take matters in my own hands, now i am unleashed, once you have both only then will you have true power
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:42:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22068718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fubbz/pseuds/fubbz
Summary: Rigel's royal castle, once filled with years of pride and legacy, stands abandoned 5 years after the war. Chasing sentiment in their travels, a couple take shelter in their former home.
Relationships: Berkut/Rinea (Fire Emblem)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 39





	1. Weary Travels

**Author's Note:**

> First writing in a long while. I'm an artist with a love for the literary. This pair is actually special in a way for me that it helped me immerse in my own capabilities and embrace it. I've analysed them to oblivion. This work will come with multiple instalments so please enjoy! You can find me on Twitter @fuzzdropsbears

Wind blows. Snow falls. 

Weather in Rigel remains unrelenting as always. Nothing but snow could be seen for days around. Who would have thought that a blizzard would arrive this early into winter? Grimacing, a man shivers as he clutches his cloak. He's barely able to take a step, let alone a dignified one. Granted, his proud stature bore the brunt of vicious blows time and time again. But a mere man, no matter how strong, is rendered powerless before the elements. 

How much more the lady beside him? 

If he barely stood before these winds, surely she must be blown about by now. He cranes his neck and sees her stumbling doggedly. Blue hair spills from the hood of her cloak, whipping wildly in the gale, she falls to her knees with a muffled crunch of snow. A weak laugh escapes her lips. She insisted she'd stay right behind him. Naturally, in this dreadful snow, worry soon took over her lover's conscience and he held her close. At least now they can weather it together. 

"... You know..." Rinea started. "I'd never have thought that you'd suggest to come back here after so long." 

It's true. After fraternising with the Zofians, their warm lands and even warmer dispositions slowly took to Berkut. And even Alm was bearable enough that they could joke around as cousins would. But it was mostly to Rinea's open mind that brought him down from the clouds of his own pride. Berkut pulls her closer by the waist, almost covering her figure completely. He plants a quick kiss on the top of her sweet head.

"If it weren't for your patience, my dear, I'd surely be a desperately lost cause" he said. "The Zofians irritated me to no end."

Pressing her fingertips to her chin, she stopped and slowly lifted her gaze. The corners of her mouth lifted slightly as she shook her head in response. She knows something he doesn't. Not to what his own pride allowed in his conscience anyways.

"It wasn't that at all. You just... Looked like as if you needed some encouraging." She gestures to him, seeking her words. "You looked... Lonely."

This was also true. Berkut sighed in resignation. Although he had her by his side, he never had any other semblance of friendship or family. Rinea was all that he had after the war was over, the other side to his coin. The fact that Zofian culture was so vastly different to Rigel's deepened his isolation. People thought him coarse and unapproachable when he was just gauging their intent. The people of Rigel thaw slowly, as snow in the early throes of spring. It's customary to adopt a questioning or commanding tone when speaking to strangers. Repeat visits or circumstance would soften the severity. Being friendly upfront was odd and even suspicious to the common Rigelian. The fact that there were so many strangers than he'd ever seen in his life at once made him withdraw into his hardened shell even more. He needed an indication, which he desperately could not find within himself, to know if these people were genuine in their being. Rinea simply knocked, gently if one may add, on his miserable and confused shell. It wasn't long once she led him by example that he began to try. Actions meant more than words, especially for Rigelians. Wordy Zofians only distanced them from their stingy, untrusting cousins. 

Rinea was choice in her words, speaking little but efficiently. She talked and behaved in a way that made Zofians transparent through their colourful vocabulary, exposing them. Berkut smiled to himself, knowing that in their first encounter, she did exactly that. Not that his words were colourful, but the truth of them resounded. His heart spilled before her, and only for the latter to later learn that dancing was a sentimental significance. An act reserved for his future beloved. It was the only example of connection and intimacy that he observed from his late parents' loving bond. It's no wonder he stormed out of the ballroom so bitterly. The fact that she adored to dance, albeit in secret, reminded him of the joy and love for dancing his mother and father had in their time alone. Together, they slowly swayed and chuckled in moonlit halls. He'd often find them staring at each other's eyes, seeing one another from within. They resigned for the night afterward, hand in hand, prowling the halls like teenagers.

As a child, he wondered what the muffled harmonies were in their quarters. Mother was good at singing, so why would she sing out of tune? He thought that it was a strange song, and that he would probably tell them it sounded terrible the next morning. As an adult, he blushed at the realisation. Perhaps after a similar encounter one night, he was brought into existence. 

Against the expanse of powder white snow, his violent shades of red became embarrassingly apparent. He quickly shook himself of the thought and stomped heavily in the snow.

Seeing this, Rinea laughed. Sweet and bright against the bitter cold. Her words hit a chord.

"Have I said anything so crude? Your colour is showing!" 

He looks aside, as if he could hide from his beloved wife and his closest friend. A habit that could not quit. Considering that they were nearing the castle...

He decided to bare his heart before her.

"I was hoping..." He steadied himself with a breath. "I was hoping you could keep me company once we reach the castle." 

Berkut huffed, casting his look downward. Sheepish and half-lidded. 

"You know... With how lonely you say that I am. You can show me that I'm not if you'd like."

"It depends, my lord. Are you feeling lonely?" 

"Perhaps..."

The lingering velvet in his voice felt tantalising against her. His trailing laugh so teasing and so provocative. It didn't help that they were clinging to one another. Rinea felt his fingers tracing her outline, evoking a shudder that the cold couldn't hope to match. It wasn't immediately at the prospect of his touch, but at the thought of the same fingers later leaving their warmth on her bare skin. She would imagine his eyes, so predatory in all his want for her and so reverent in his awe. Rinea would remember when she gasped in pleasure, a rumble would resound from him in response. So deep and rich, she likened it to a lion's purr. Cuddling close, Rinea hears that familiar rumble through his chest as they murmur in the afterglow. A lion that lies within, dozing happily as the dawn rises. She loved him dearly and he the same. While words bridged their hearts together, it was their actions, no matter how small, that forged their souls close. 

She thought it was very Rigelian of them. Rigelian in the way that they ultimately didn't need words, but could act on their love for each other. As one would prove themselves in a trial, theirs was the strength of their bond. She could hope to boast that they as a people have fiercer intimacies compared to their flowery Zofian cousins. To be honest, to be genuine, to be bare, past words and complexities - once proven true it could never be proven false. Her heart fluttered at her thoughts. Warmth spread between them. 

They trudged together in the snow in silence, leaning heavily on one another. Unbothered by the chill in the wind.

Perhaps this weather isn't so dreadful at all.


	2. Bedroom Meadow

"I'd like to wander these halls first if you wouldn't mind." 

"Leaving me so soon, my lady?" He brought her hand up and brushed a kiss on her knuckles. Desire drpping from his eyes, he continues, "I am terribly lonely."

"I hardly imagine the stone floor to be the thrilling answer to our years of intimacy."

Berkut barked a laugh at her quip as she went to reach up to kiss his cheek. He let her hand go, watching her petite figure disappear further into the castle. 

Rinea's humming echoed throughout the stony interior and her steps littered the halls. She went on, exploring. 

They had entered through the gates, just open enough for them to slip inside. Finally, they had eluded the storm and reached their destination. It was dim, and a little dusty. The brilliance of the castle interior faded to the test of time. It was simply a ghost of what it was, and memories were made elsewhere. Melancholy permeated in the stale air. 

To think this was once their home, stern as it was comforting, something sank in their hearts to see its state.

Setting down their things, Berkut coughed and waved out plumes of dust. They brought with them simple bedrolls, a small pot, food, some kindling, and weapons for self defense. The couple were well travelled by now as they had scaled the entirety of Valentia together. They sought a purpose that would hopefully guide them in this new life. Under the new rule, the populace gradually migrated closer to the centre of the continent. Rigelians and Zofians mingled through trade and festivities, slowly learning to climb past prejudices and cultural gaps. Which was encouraged of course, by their Rigelian king and Zofian queen. He thought Alm to barely pass as one of their own. Berkut often remarked on the strange duality of his character. He had the humility and meekness of a Zofian farmer, and the unwavering qualities of a Rigelian fighter. There was no trace of pride in him, he found. 

At first, he would violently scoff at the idea of a farmer king. Berkut regarded farmers as miserable peasants who didn't understand honour or glory. He thought they were enslaved only by their simplicity, how could they rise above their station? While his cousin was born a prince, he grew up a farm boy. His disdain evaporated when, with newfound wisdom, he saw how Alm worked the ground. Wielding the hoe as one would a blade. Their drive is in their fight to survive, no matter the season. They were a noble warrior in their own right. The simplicity in its craft was its beauty. He was compelled to take up arms beside their king. 

To see her beloved come so far, Rinea could only quietly watch as her heart surged for the man she adored. He came home to her that night, laughing with dirt flecked on his cheeks and trailing the earth behind him. Rigel's former prince, moved to glee by simple pleasures. Unbothered by his state, he picked her up and spun her around. Now both of them were dirty. They later took turns washing each other before lounging together in a hot bath. As they lay there naked, he would recount his day to her excitedly, as a boy would after his first day of schooling. This encounter with life inspired the both of them to see everything for themselves and in their own eyes. And now here they were, at the end of their journey. Within the abandoned castle's walls, they hoped to make new memories amongst the old. 

Berkut was stopped in his reminiscing when Rinea returned, her face bright against the gloom. She spoke hurriedly,

"Come— Quick! I found something that might interest you— I couldn't believe it myself."

Her steps were frantic and her eyes were pleading. Blinking slowly, he was curious but ultimately unconvinced. Surely after years of living here, nothing could be new. She caressed his knuckles, waiting for an answer with expectant eyes. He nodded in response.

Berkut followed as she took his hand to lead the way.

"What is it?" he asked, "Everything should be the same as we left it five years ago"

"Few things have changed in our absence. Well, more than a few things. The higher you go the..."

She trailed off as the stairs they climbed slowly became greener. Vines greeted them and moss coated the stone-hewn walls. Despite the castle being surrounded by harsh winter, the evergreen took hold. Compared to the lower chambers, the air was fresh and fragrant. 

She slowed as they approached another peculiar sight.

Pale blue flowers. 

They decorated the walls and lined the ends of the stairs like the aisles of a wedding. Like stars in the sky, they gave off an ethereal glow. 

They were told of the late god's younger sister, Mila, and how her body now rests underneath the castle. It is clear that the Earth Mother's influence took hold of Rigel's royal stronghold. 

How terrifying. That the power of the gods is still persistent even through death. One could hardly fathom the extent of their power. 

"Well...?"

Slowing their ascent, she looks to him. Her face framed in the gentle pastel glow. Rinea looked breathtaking in the otherworldly light. He never wanted her more.

"You look wonderful..."

Berkut's mouth hung open, humbled. Her eyes softened at the sight of her husband. The way the light entered them, it was as if her eyes shone softly. He was at a loss for words. 

Keeping her gaze fixed on him, she gently pulled him forward. Her soft skin lingering against the callouses of his hands. 

"This way." 

She sounded breathless. Perhaps she saw him in a similar manner. Rinea savoured the look of wonder in his eyes, it was as if his love began anew.

Left. Right. Then straight to the first door they see. If he remembered correctly, this was the way to her quarters when he started courting her. And when they were first engaged.

Rigelian courtship formally began with engagement. For the nobility, it was lengthy, spanning three years of textbook tutoring and evaluations. Despite the explicit nature of their tutoring, it was a rule not to consummate before they are formally recognised as a union. But it is encouraged to discuss with one's fiancée to promote healthy familiarity with pleasure and intimacy. The fourth year focused on the marriage itself.For six months the pair would be separated to prepare, and the wedding would then commence. The latter months spanned the honeymoon period. One would say that the engagement is in itself a test of endurance and self control. Rigelian weddings are often passionate and intense, which intimidate Zofian onlookers.

Rinea remembered how fiercely they held on to each other after not seeing each other for so long. Their kiss left the both of them gasping for air. She was practically dangling as he lifted her. Clinging to him, she relished the warmth of his body. It was the first time she saw her Berkut cry in front of that many people. How with his voice, husky from emotion, declared his love for her. How he tenderly buried himself in her shoulders, broken yet whole, she would never forget. 

The way the flowers framed their path forward reminded them of their triumphant march down the aisle, as if they defied fate itself. They chuckled in unison. 

"I almost wish the ceremony was held here. With all... this." Rinea somberly looked around her, her other hand resting on the door handle.

"We would be the subject of every Zofian's envy. They would say that the Earth Mother had given our union her blessing." 

He paused, gazing at her. "However, it's best that we found it now than before... I'm reluctant to share this little discovery of yours."

She gives him a sly smile, "My lord? I thought you were past being selfish."

With a yelp, she finds herself picked up with her thighs straddling his sides. Rinea feels a heat grow between her legs as he presses their bodies together. Berkut settles his deep, unrelenting gaze completely on hers.

"... I am." He purred in her ear. "Would you like me to demonstrate? Wouldn't you want to know just how much I have to give?" 

Berkut kisses her neck, tracing wet circles as he works along its column. He finds her wrapping her legs around him in response, much to his delight. 

"Mm... Mhm. Go ahead. Show me."

With a bang, the door swung open.

He resolved to give everything he had, until there was nothing left of him.

Devouring her love laid out for him, and only him, he crashes their lips together, grinding at the hip. Rinea's hands roam his shoulders and settle on the side of his face and the back of his head. A moan escapes Berkut, lavishing the feeling of his hair being pulled. She deepens the kiss, desperately probing his mouth, aching for his taste. Though weary from their journey, the onset of buried memories since arriving kindled and furthered their desire. This was different to their usual lovemaking, which was slower, calmer. 

He walked them closer to the bed, eyes closed as they explored one another. Shuffling through the flowers that led them to this moment. He reached behind her, between her legs, and stroked through her clothes. Berkut found her gasping and chuckling. She stiffened at his touch and lowered herself to the pressure of his fingers. As they made their way through the room, he hoisted her onto the bed. 

Or at least, he thought he did. What they completely missed in the middle of their fervour was the fact that the bed was broken in two of the legs. They winced at the impact, and slid off of the slanted mattress. They hit the carpet of flowers with a thud.

Wide-eyed and bewildered, they lay there looking at one another in surprise.

"Oh— Damn it!" he hissed.

Berkut buried his face in Rinea's chest, while she laughed at their predicament. Hearing her under him, his attention shifted. "Rinea... Are you hurt? You took the brunt of our fall."

"No, no. I'm quite alright!" Mirth lingered on her lips. "I appreciate the concern. Thank you, Berkut."

"I'm a little upset this happened. It was almost perfect."

"It  _ is _ perfect, look around you." 

With a smile, she turned his cheek. Flowers surrounded them in a great number, illuminating her quarters with a breathtaking glow. She lay in the middle of them, their petals framing her lovely figure. Any semblance of frustration left him instantly. 

"You look quite handsome from this view." Her hands cup the side of his face, tracing his cheek with her thumb, as he returns his loving gaze on her. 

"Thank you, Rinea."

The thickness of the undergrowth beneath them proved more comfortable than the mattress itself. Slowly, they were lulled to sleep in each other's arms by the room's gentle glow. 

The last thing Berkut remembers is Rinea stroking his hair as he lay on her chest. Falling asleep to the sound of her heartbeat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did a bit of worldbuilding from what lore was given in Echoes. I hope I expanded a little more on what the game showed with its setting. Considering 5 years had past after the war, there would be a lot of changes. I got a bit cheeky there in the end with the carrot on the stick. I guess you'll just have to wait!


	3. Silent Contemplation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lying awake in the bed of flowers, Rinea gathers some thoughts to herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm back, I decided to savour the writing process instead of just wolfing down my ideas and sharting it out all hellbent. In hindsight, I unwittingly shifted gears in writing approach to better fit the nature of the characters I focus on. Really loving writing as another way to share and express ideas in a tangible form. Thought to make a more Rinea centric chapter since we focused the past two mostly on Berkut and his memories. In my downtime, I decided the entire work will be 5 chapters with equal character focus. So, 2/2/1, Berkut, Rinea, and the last one I hope to incorporate both narrations seamlessly - it'll be fitting considering the nature of the chapter.

The sound of soft, steady breathing fills Rinea's ears as she stirs to consciousness amongst the bed of flowers. Was it morning? One could hardly tell in this timeless atmosphere. All she knew was that the howling of the blizzard had stopped.

Her beloved remains asleep on her chest, she smiled as she reflects on the curious turn of events. Berkut would always worry if he lay on top of her, thinking he'd be too heavy. She thinks the weight comforting, she likes the times where he buries himself in the softness of her breasts. There, she can play with his hair while embracing his broad, well muscled back. A few times she put him to sleep like this, humming lullabies and folk songs. She absentmindedly plants a soft kiss on his head, sighing at the endearing sight of her sleeping Berkut. Rinea gives him as many opportunities to be the recipient of her affection, as much as he'd love to give.

Many Rigelians would avoid the discomfort of letting their guard down, including Rinea. Instead of putting up walls, she would rather keep herself well hidden to keenly observe around her. Berkut, being taught to fight, would lash out on his last legs. A desperate display lacking grace, spurred only by instinct. 

If he was a lion, then surely she'd be a mouse. He thought her more of a deer than a mouse, beautiful as it was elusive, she protested at the suggestion. Finally, after minutes of push and pull, they compromised. She'd be a deer-looking mouse, or a mousy-looking deer, whichever one she felt more like. Seeing at how preposterous their situation unfolded, they laughed together, grasping both of their hands and waving them.

Being reminded of this, she took one look at her husband. His hands resting in front of him, the sound of his soft snoring was akin to the purring of a house cat. Rinea giggled, she'd mention this to him later. What a strange couple they were. A lion and a deer, a cat and a mouse, happily spending their lives side by side.

Even stranger in that he was Rigel's unexpected heir and she was the daughter of a disgraced noble house. Sensing in each other a kindred spirit, they were drawn to one another. She was curious to how the prince noticed her in the least of the halls. It just so happened that it were the same halls his parents frequented. His mother would await his father in the exact same place. When Rinea turned to face him, his heart sank at the realisation. Berkut's composure fell through the cracks. She thought the prince looked so different before her. Earlier, she saw him, his head lifted and his posture perfect, nothing could get past his hardy stare. Now he could barely keep his eyes on hers, flitting to and fro, his head down while he wrung his hands. Rinea saw before her a boy that grew too fast, or was made to, to shoulder the burden of succeeding the throne. He was not only a prince, but an esteemed general. Soon, he was to be her fiancée. One could hardly imagine the pressure. How ironic it was that he prepared unceasingly to prove himself, only to find that his birthright was invalidated by a hidden true heir. Few knew of Rudolf's son, but no one bothered to tell him. All his efforts were for naught.

Rinea couldn't find him when he disappeared at the news of the truth. Who could bear to withstand this humiliating loss of face? At his lowest, a fallen god was whispering in his ear. He needed someone to pull him back from the brink. She was glad she found Alm and his company, having recently subdued the emperor. The first time he met his father was also his last. Despite his pain, he listened and was kind, determined to find his vagrant cousin. Rinea set out with them, praying that her beloved was safe from harm. She remembered little but the whirl of emotion finding him guarded by terrors in the catacombs. Sounds of blades and anguished cries flashed through her memory. 

The next thing she knew was that Berkut was collapsed in her arms. Both of them were breathing heavily and barely conscious. He feebly reached for her as she clumsily took his face in her hands, sobbing in layers of joy and relief. Berkut seemed to lose all other semblance of words, calling only for her name. She remembers frantically hushing him, wiping the soot from his cheeks and kissing him over and over. Her soft cries surrounded the chamber as she finally embraced him. Though exhausted, he was safe. 

Alm and his company merely stood agape at the rare show of vulnerability, and saw how easily he took to her touch. Their fiercest opponent kneeled not to the might of blades but to the arms of his lover. The resolve that came from their bond terrified them. And the fact that she was willing to face the terror-filled chambers alone and unarmed had they denied, was she out of her mind? They were baffled by her reckless display of bravery. Rinea simply thanked them, nothing else mattered as she cradled his head on her lap. Assuring that they'd only need rest before heading to safety, she wished Alm well. Their healers tended to their wounds before marching on.

After being tended to by the maidservants, the two later lay at rest together in Berkut's quarters, freshly washed and clothed in soft white garments. The winter sun streamed through the windows, casting pools of warm light. They huddled together wordlessly, the silence was more than enough to comfort each other after what had happened. Sleep soon graced them.

Rinea often pondered the times where they held each other without speaking, she wondered how their silence could be put into words. Surely it was impossible, not even Zofians could describe what could be felt. Love often escapes one's words. Theirs didn't need very many. But in order to be shared it needed at least both parties to be conscious. For all the time she was reminiscing, Berkut remained fast asleep. Thinking made her hungry and her stomach growled in response. It was most definitely morning. 

She shook him gently, patting between his shoulders. Her leg began to tingle from his weight.

"Up... Up...!" Rinea whispered, she felt like as if she were rousing an infant. A very big one in fact. "Berkut, my love, please... It is morning, how long do you intend to stay like this?"

She shook him again, with a little more vigour. Her leg was getting precariously numb.

"Berkut...!"

A slow groan and a huff. He curled up to her, further burying himself in her chest. From what she knew of his habits, he didn't seem so happy with being awake for once.

"... I was having a lovely dream. You couldn't have spared me a few moments to finish it, would you?" 

"I would have, but I can barely feel my leg."

With a grunt, he rolled off of her. So lazy and so slow. She would have laughed if it weren't for the pain. Rinea winced as the feeling of pins and needles flared up and down her leg. 

Through gritted teeth, she continued, "We did spend the night sleeping on the ground. While a refreshing change from our usual luxuries, my leg didn't seem to agree."

Berkut was looking at her now, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and yawning. Despite his morning gripe, he held himself next to her head and brushed his lips to her cheek. 

"... Good morning, Rinea. I apologise for the leg... Are you alright?"

"I should be fine after a while. Good morning. Oh, but— this does hurt!"

A laugh escaped his lips and his eyes creased from a slight smile. "Would it make it hurt less if I told you what I dreamt about?"

"Over breakfast, perhaps. I am hungry..." With a slight pout, she looked at him. His laugh returned with a hearty quality. 

"I suppose it's my turn to cook. I'd imagine you'd want a heavier breakfast this time?"

"Yes, yes! Of course— Do we still have eggs? Please tell me we still do."

"We do."

The promise of warm food excited her, it was an endearing sight to see her finally light up— despite the leg of course.

"You do know how I like them, don't you?"

"Mhm. Slightly salted and runny, you needn't remind me. Might I add that you adore mopping up the yolk with buttered toast?" He puffed his cheeks and closed his eyes. "You've always made delightful little faces when it comes to your favourites."

Rinea brought a hand up to her cheek, looking at him quizzically. She blushed at his words and giggled. 

"Do I... Really... Look like that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want a stronger image for the deer-looking mouse, and the mousy-looking deer - search deer mouse and a chevrotain. I laughed a lot writing this section. The short children's story, The Lion and the Mouse also went through my mind when I was writing it. I also wondered what would happen if she found Alm first before they challenged the catacombs. I have a level design of this scenario written in my list of art prompts... I'll find a way to present it as best as I can. Rinea would be a Noble class that can be re-classed to a Pegasus Knight, Cleric, Mage, or a Dancer (!!!). Echoes didn't have a refresher class, and with how much effort they put into the new additions - she could have been very well have been intended to be a dancer. She does have her own battle portrait.


	4. Warmth by the Fire

After rousing themselves for the morning in one of the castle's quarters, they were in for a slight predicament. Rinea's leg was still tender and slightly numb. The climb back down to the opening chamber was several flights of stairs. She sat while he stood, pacing slowly. Berkut suggested he carry her, either on his back or to his chest, all she needed was to choose. She found that he sounded mostly serious, but there was air of playfulness in the way he mimed it. Rinea thought for a while, hugging her knees to her chest. If they were to make their way back down the same flower-filled halls, she'd like to be held like a bride. Sitting up straight, she spoke to match his lightened mood.

"Carry me as if I was your bride!" She held up her arms to him, "Breakfast seems lovely to this supposed bride, don't you think?"

He chuckled fondly at the sight of her, he'd always cherish little moments like these. Rinea watches as he makes his way to kneel beside her, his hands ready.

"Not a day goes by that you are never my bride."

With a grunt, he lifts her to him quite easily. Her peals of laughter filled the room during her flight. Rinea's legs dangled a ways off the ground. He was so tall. He wasn't like the princes in the storybooks, like fair-haired and blue-eyed knights. He was stern and brooding. Berkut was unconventional in the way that his hair and eyes were instead a deep black and brown. There was a sharp feminine charm to his harsh eyes. A quality he inherited from his terrifying mother. He daunted all those who looked upon him. 

Her prince was dark and beautiful. 

In the time he walked with her in his arms, so casual in his stride, she found herself gazing at his features. Everything about it was so dangerous and piercing, but she noted the depth in his eyes when he returned her gaze. Instead, it was warm and inviting. Rinea found herself being swallowed by it, slowly and steadily, until—

"Rinea, my dear" he said. "Have I caught you under a spell?"

Shaking herself back into the moment, she blinked and looked away. She found herself fiddling with the strings of his woollen tunic. Her ring shone in the soft light of the flowers surrounding them.

"Your eyes always seem harsh and stern, but I always find myself endlessly drawn to it..." Rinea rested her head on his shoulder, continuing her gaze. "I'm embarrassed to admit, but watching your eyes has become a hobby of mine. They're very telling in their own way."

"Are they handsome?" 

His eyes remained on the stairs as he gently made his way down. Rinea simply replied in a small voice, 

"Beautiful, actually." 

Berkut chuckled, a smile delicately spread on his lips. His chest thrummed with the richness of his voice. 

"No one ever makes mention of my eyes. It's always about the cut of my jaw or the shape of my brow." 

He slows as they approach the end of the stairs. The sound of his footsteps muffled by the carpet underneath them. Their things lay on the stone floor a little ways from where they stood. 

"But my eyes? Beautiful? From someone as such as yourself? Mother would smile from kind words like yours..."

Berkut bent at the waist to let her down from his arms, her feet graced the ground she walked on.

"Would you suppose she is smiling right now?"

He pauses. "Yes, I'd think so."

His eyes changed yet again, a soft and sad quality lingered in them. Berkut loved his mother dearly. Rigel's famines were severe, commoners and nobles alike fell to them. Royalty was no exception. 

Rinea took his arm in hers, leaning on him. The silence was comforting. Berkut always said that she would treat her like her own. After their days on the earth are done, Rinea mentioned that she'd look forward to the moment where they can meet her alongside his father. What kind of welcome would she get, she wondered.

He cleared his throat, patting her arm with his other hand. She saw him shake off his momentary gloom, smiling as he glanced at her. It has been a decade since his mother’s passing, but his fondness for her remained still. It got to him sometimes. Rinea gave his hand a light squeeze before letting go. They walked together toward their equipment. Bending down, she unravelled her bedroll to sit and rest as he prepared breakfast. Looking around, she saw his lying unrolled beside him.

“Would you like me to put yours next to mine?” she asked.

He stopped rummaging through their supplies to turn to face her. 

“Yes, of course. And kindle the fire for me, if you please.”

They would sit together at mealtimes, telling stories and reminiscing moments throughout their journey. The only thing missing was the warm fire that either of them would light. Last time she used magic, she figured that she’d start it this time by striking flint. It’s important to keep these skills honed. Basic survival skills concerning hunting, gathering, and camping are all known to Rigelians. Resourcefulness is a necessary trait, practicing it even more so. After tending to his furs, she grabbed some kindling, a knife, and some flint from her rucksack. Steadying herself with a breath, she quickly struck the flint, sparks sprayed from her knife’s edge. It took several tries, but she was patient. Once they caught onto the kindling, she cupped her hands around it, blowing gently. It wasn’t long until the smoking embers grew. Slowly but surely, a crackling fire spread before her, surrounding the lonely chamber in its light. Rinea stood up to toss more firewood to feed it. The flames leapt upward, accepting its well-earned treat. She likened the glowing hearth to a loyal pet that provided comfort and warmth. The only difference was that it was dangerous to the touch. Despite that, she found the dancing flames endearing.

“Well done.” Berkut held out several eggs in his hand and a small pan on the other, “How many would you like?”

They didn’t need to ration at this point in their travels. After they were done exploring the castle, they would head to the nearest town to lodge and replenish. With the blizzard lifted, they would make ground with it gone. This was his treat to both of them, a celebration of sorts for reaching the end of the road. Rinea felt… peckish.

“Three…?” She shook her head, quickly rescinding her statement, “Oh just— Four. Please.”

They forgot to eat the night before, or perhaps they just had a different type of hunger. Both of which they clumsily failed to fulfill. A heavy breakfast would right many wrongs. 

“I’ll start with yours” he said, cracking an egg into the pan. He salted them like she would always have it.

She would watch as he held the pan above the open fire, his eyes were focused as he cooked. He’d already prepared the plates, they were wooden and a little shabby. On hers was five buttered slices of a breadloaf, she was waiting to see what he would do with them. Outside of a proper homestead, they could be as ridiculous as they wanted with their meals. Berkut pressed one of the slices onto the pan, creating a delightful sizzle. The scent was irresistible, Rinea could only helplessly clutch at her growling stomach as her hunger grew. Once a set was done, he placed the slice onto her plate and slid the egg on top. He then repeated the procedure, resulting in a rather tall stack of five slices of bread and four eggs, alternating one after another. She gleefully laughed as he passed the plate expectantly. 

Behold, her husband’s prized creation, a clumsy, wobbling tower of eggs. Some of the yolk dripped down to the sides.

Rinea eyed her silly little meal, carefully rotating the plate. “Oh this looks precarious! How would I even start to eat this?” 

He simply looked down as a grin spread on his face, satisfied with the amusement and joy his creation brought.

“I’ll show you after I finish mine.” 

Berkut pressed his lips together in a thin line, as if suppressing something. It was the face he made before he was about to say something amusing, “I was remembering that we passed Duma Tower—”

“—Duma Tower!” 

Her fit of laughter was raucous, she sighed as it subsided.

“It looks nothing like it, Berkut! Not at all!”

“It’s the intent that matters, not the… Not the appearance.” He put away the pan and pointed to his finished stack, mirth lined his trembling voice. “We have ourselves little Duma Tower Sandwiches. I’d say this is a meal worthy of the gods. You should feel honored to eat something that looks so similar to a holy domain.”

“It does not! It looks miserable to even exist!”

“Then at least I’ve captured one of its likenesses.” Berkut’s voice finally gave way to a derisive chortle.

They continued laughing at their platefulls, it even seemed to shrink back in shame. It was true, Duma Tower was a miserable, gloomy looking thing. You could see it all throughout Rigel. 

Once they regained their composure, he sat next to her, cross-legged on his furs. Berkut picked up his meal, his fingers on top and his thumbs on the bottom, effectively sandwiching it. He warned her to hold it firmly. Rinea followed in turn, mimicking him as he brought his breakfast to his wide open mouth. They watched each other as they simultaneously bit down with a crunch. Her cheeks puffed with the generous mouthful of her meal, a bit of yolk dribbled down her mouth. The saltiness of the eggs balanced with the weight of the bread and butter, making a simple but pleasant taste. Rinea’s eyes widened, she was delighted and revived by his treat. She smiled as she chewed her food, making a satisfied noise.

Berkut saw she was making the same face when she ate food she adored. No words were needed, it was becoming another quick favourite. She hadn’t finished her mouthful when Rinea suddenly took another voracious bite. Then another. And another. The bigger the mouthfuls, the more the meal seemed to appeal to her. In the corner of her eye, she saw him stop abruptly as she devoured her food. His meal was suspended before his mouth. Whether it was to take another bite or open in apparent shock, she was clueless to know.

“Whaf’s wrong? Ishf everyfing alrighd?” she said through a mouthful. Rinea was licking the remnants of the yolk off of her fingers.

She remained polite even if her table manners were the epitome of rude and vulgar for nobility. To Berkut however, seeing her demolish her meal in a mere matter of seconds was extremely flattering, in fact the highest form of flattery he could be experiencing in the moment. Manners didn’t matter, nor did rules or any form of conduct. They were alone together, and the sight before him was endearing as it was captivating. He simply shook his head and smiled at her. Rinea finished, wiping the crumbs from her face. 

“Thank you…” She gulped down the rest of her food, “Thank you for the lovely meal.”

“It seemed like it was more your pleasure than it was mine. Did my miserable little tower delight you so?” 

Rinea looked at him as she nodded. Her eyes flitted to his meal and back.

“Unfortunately, as much as I would love to indulge you. There are no seconds. He smirked as he continued to eat, “Don’t think I would let you have mine either.”

“Then could you indulge me with a stroll after you eat? Around the castle I mean.” Her hands leaned on her thighs as she sat on her knees, hoping he’d say yes.

They hadn’t explored much of the castle as they first intended, they were distracted by their much unattended desires. There were several things of note in the castle: the mess hall, the armory, the library, and most importantly, the throne room. Berkut stuffed the remnant of his breakfast in his mouth.

“It would be my pleasure.”

Rinea always looked forward to their walks, however short or long. A majority of their time spent at their leisure was when strolling together, finding new places or making rounds on the old. It cleared their minds and calmed their hearts. Her habit to wander and set out on long walks eventually swayed Berkut to join her. 

Over time, he would grow to enjoy the simple delight of a lengthy walk. All their small strolls gradually awakened a desire to journey across Valentia. They decided that it was how they’d venture in their life together, side by side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to focus down on the dialogue and action more than the segments that reflected their memories. In doing so, I somehow created my most enjoyable and lengthiest chapter yet. There was always more to Rinea than meets the eye, she was very contained and a little awkward in public spaces as shown in the base game. When it comes to things she loves and cares most about, she does become way less guarded in the way she acts, especially in private encounters. Kind of like a flower that blooms in very specific occassions. She loses herself a lot to the sway of her own actions. She's very unapologetic about things she immerses herself in. I very much like how her character needs for you to pay extra attention to get to know her more interesting qualities. I just like discovering characters like these, and the fact that she's hard to read at a glance kind of cements the profound simple sentiments she expresses and would very much prefer to be in the background. Of course, there were choice elements in her characterisation that left me wondering and searching for more. I'm very content with what I've found in her character, simple and true.


End file.
